


Operation April Fool's: Cupid's Arrow

by youtextd



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: April Fools' Day, Bisexual John, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Bottoming from the Top, Confessions, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sherlock, John being a little shit, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Sherlock being a little shit, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youtextd/pseuds/youtextd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's had enough of Sherlock's antics and decides to teach him a lesson this April Fool's day with a little help from Mycroft</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_John, ha_ _ve you been using my phone?_  – SH 

John grinned as he peeked at his phone between patients.  He quickly typed out a reply and pressed send

 _Why would I need to use your phone? Last time I checked mine worked fine._ – JW

 

 _Some form of retaliation perhaps. You complain about me using your laptop often enough._  – SH

Another notification coming from his phone, made Sherlock grit his jaws together. This was absolutely... 

 _Take a look at singles near your location, Deerstalker0601. And remember to enhance your profile for more matches._    – Cupid’s-arrow.com

Sherlock pocketed his phone with a snarl. Virus, most likely. Tedious. 

 

 _Sorry, haven't touched it.  What's wrong with it?_ – JW

John quickly typed out, sending the message off.  He already knew what was 'wrong' with Sherlock's phone, but was rather curious to see what the detective's response would be.

 

Sherlock felt his phone vibrate in his pocket a couple of times - two short buzzes, indicating emails - before he took it out again when it vibrates just once. Text message. John. 

 _Virus. Something about a dating site. Keep receiving emails and texts telling me to 'update' my profile. I'll deal with it once I get home. –_ SH

 _Thank you for updating your profile, Deerstalker 0601. We will begin matching shortly.   –_ Cupid’s-arrow.com

'What on...' Sherlock muttered, frowning at his phone. 

 

John chuckled quietly.  He typed out a quick message to Mycroft. 

 _Operation April Fool’s in effect.  How's the profile coming along?  Thanks again for your help._ – JW

He turned his attention back to Sherlock now.

 _Where are you, I thought you were at home?  And sounds to me like somebody signed you up for a dating service.  Maybe you should give it a go, but I can try and help you with it after my shift._ – JW

 

 _Very nicely. Just completed it. You'll be able to find him under the username 'Deerstalker0601' if you're curious. I thought he might appreciate the sentiment. Do keep me posted, John. –_ MH 

Mycroft couldn't help it; he grinned at his computer screen. 

'Something funny, sir?' Anthea asked, but her smirk gave her away. She was already informed what was going on. 

'A little indulgence,' Mycroft replied. 'Do alert the good DI, will you?'

'Of course, sir.'

 

Sherlock frowned at the latest text John had sent him. Give it a go? For God's sake...

 _Lestrade called with a case. Was bored so decided to go without you. Barely a six. And why on Earth would I want to 'give it a go'?  I have no desire to do whatever it is they want me to do. –_ SH 

 _Match(es) found. Want to take a look?_ – Cupid’s-arrow.com

 

It was taking forever to get through with his current patient.  It seemed every time he thought he was through with her, something else came up, so ten minutes after the normal allotted time, he was finally able to check his messages.  Thank goodness there were two free slots after her, he suspected his receptionist always scheduled it that way, problematic patient and all.

He did actually laugh out loud though when he finally got to read Mycroft's text.  He quickly replied back his thanks and that he would keep him apprised of unfolding events and then opened Sherlock's text. 

He must be bored to give barely a six a go, so John thought now would be a good time to have some more fun with him.

 _You never know, could turn out to be fun.  Did you receive any profiles yet_? –JW

He ignored talking about the case and focusing instead on the dating site, knowing that it would only serve to exacerbate the problem further.

 

 _Fun?! How on Earth could this be fun? –_ SH

 _[Sent link] –_ SH

Sherlock visibly shivered as he deleted the mail that had notified him of the profile. How someone within their right mind would post a picture like that on the internet was beyond him and  _oh dear God_ there were getting more! 

'Alright?' 

Lestrade's voice startled him and Sherlock huffed out an affirmative. The DI grinned, awfully chipper. 'Come on. Tell us what you can see.'

 

John couldn't help but laugh at the profile Sherlock had sent him.  Whoever Mycroft had working on this deserved a raise.  The picture alone was gold itself (a petite brunette making lewd suggestions with her mouth) but then as John read through her profile, he completely lost it.  Likes - that deerstalker hat of yours, definitely a plus, spontaneity, romantic, lots of public affection; dislikes - men who think they know everything, men that are more than six inches taller than me.  He was giggling so much now, his eyes were watering and he could barely read the screen.  He had to take several deep breaths to calm himself down and then he opened and sent another message to Sherlock.

 _Oh come on.  She looks like fun. Plus she really likes your 'deerstalker'._ – JW

 

With each vibration of his phone, Sherlock was getting more and more distracted. He could hardly focus on the case and when he had to take it out to show Lestrade a map reference, he visibly groaned. 

John was clearly enjoying his misery, but what was worse was the dozen or so notifications on the top of his screen. New profiles.

Lestrade snorted. 'Didn't know you joined a dating site?'

'I didn't,' Sherlock snarled and Lestrade raised his hands in mock surrender. But that damned smug grin was still in place. 'Find the brother, I'm going home.'

'Oh come on Sherlock, I was kidding!'

But Sherlock didn't turn around and stomped to the side of the road to call a cab. 

Greg shook his head and pulled out his phone. 

 _His majesty just left in a mood. Whose idea was this, I owe him a pint. His face was hilarious! –_ GL

\- sent to John Watson.

 

 _It was mine, but it's Mycroft's people that are making it 'real'.  My Gods, I would have given anything to see his face._ – JW

 _Though I'd have ruined it.  Wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face_. – JW

John's phone buzzed with an incoming text, he figured it was Sherlock, but it was Greg.

 _Oh it was glorious.  Better than when Anderson annoys him.  And his phone just kept getting alert after alert.  Hell, I'll buy everyone involved a drink._ – GL

 _We can make a night of it.  I'm gonna text his majesty now, see how he is_. – JW

 _Keep me informed._  – GL

 _Will do, ta mate!_ – JW

John glanced at his watch, still forty five minutes till his shift ended.  No reason to wait that long to see how things were going.

 

 _Match(es) found. Want to take a look?_ – Cupid’s-arrow.com

No

 _Match(es) found. Want to take a look?_ – Cupid’s-arrow.com

Deep sigh. No.

 _Match(es) found. Want to take a look?_ – Cupid’s-arrow.com

'Oh for God's sake!'

Sherlock slammed his phone down on the table, half-hoping it would smash to bits. But even if his phone would die, there was still his own laptop to consider. His inbox was absolutely filled with welcomes, reminders, new profiles and messages. All of them women. And the brutality and lewdness coming from some of them... 

Sherlock snarled and closed his laptop a tad harder than usual. 

 _Fix this John! My inbox is filled with them_. – SH

 

John was getting ready to send Sherlock a text when he got a rather urgent sounding one from Sherlock.

 _Fix this John! My inbox is filled with them -_ SH

Now he really was struck with the giggles again, he deleted the text he had ready and typed one out to Mycroft.

 _How many have you sent him? It's not been all that long and he's making things sound dire._ –JW

 _I've got a man or two with no assignments at the moment so they've been working all day on it.  I do believe they're sending like at least five profiles every ten minutes._ – MH

John lost it, oh this was working out better than he had hoped, maybe this would teach the git a thing or two.  Normally John did not partake in April Fool’s Day, but after what Sherlock had done last week, he deserved a bit of payback and when John had seen an advert the other night on the telly, well that's when he got the idea and enlisted Mycroft's help.

 _Well you're just going to have to be patient.  Won't be home for a bit yet and I need to stop at Tesco's on the way home.  There is a delete button.  Use it, if you're not going to look at them_. – JW

 

 _I shouldn't have to be deleting them! I didn't apply to anything. -_ SH 

Sherlock groaned when another profile popped up - female again, dyed red hair and far too much work done on her face. Sherlock was about ready to delete the notification when a message popped up. Not John. Not Lestra... that damned dating site again!

_Hello gorgeous, wanna get something to drink?_

Sherlock stared for a moment before pulling his laptop closer and opening the browser.  Cupid’s-arrow.com/Deerstalker0601.  _Oh. My. God._

There was a profile. An honest to God profile! With his picture and everything. Alright. Delete it. That should... wait. 

Sherlock frowned. No matter how hard he smashed the button that would allow him to delete his profile, it didn't work. It was completely blocked! 

 _JOHN COME HOME NOW! –_ SH

 

John shook his head and tapped at the screen laughing as he did.

 _Some of us do have a job you know.  I'm sure whatever it is can wait_. – JW

 _There_ , John thought to himself that ought to get him.  He grinned as he typed out another text.

 _And I do need to stop at Tesco's, there's no food in the flat thanks to someone cross contaminating everything in the fridge.  You'll live.  I did._ – JW

 

 _We can order in. Come home! –_ SH

Sherlock stared to his screen in horror. A profile. With his hobbies and preferences and pictures. And John was being completely unhelpful.

Might as well enjoy it, he had said. Well, if that was how he thought about this, than he might as well join in on the 'fun' Perhaps John would find someone interesting enough to keep him satisfied for a while, no matter how Sherlock hated to think about John with someone else. 

Text after text he sent John, each one of them with a new profile while he was still trying to delete his profile on his laptop. 

 

John cursed as his phone locked up with the barrage of forwarded profiles Sherlock decided it would be nice to share.  He knew they were all fake, so the only thing they would provide was a good laugh, besides he wasn't interested in looking for date material anyway.

After he restarted his phone, he sent one last text to Sherlock before packing his bag up for the trip home.

 _Fine we can have takeaway, but you're buying and you will go to the store tomorrow and do the food shopping.  Only fair since you're the one who ruined our fridge full of food anyway.  You can pay for that as well._ – JW

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's text. He'd just ask mrs. Hudson again and John knew this. As for the money, they practically had shared bank accounts anyway. Much easier and it resulted in far less rows about unpaid bills - seriously, why would John think he could be bothered with any of that stuff? 

 _Fine, just hurry up and fix this. The delete button doesn't work for some reason. –_ SH

Sherlock tried it again for good measure – no result. Instead, another email popped up which caused him to huff and slam his laptop shut again. 

 

When John entered the foyer, he knew things were dire.  He could hear Sherlock shouting at his laptop from the bottom of the stairs and he couldn't help but chuckle.  Yes this was definitely going to be worth it.

Sherlock must have heard him coming up the stairs because the laptop was shoved into his arms the moment he opened the door.

"I swear John, if you don't fix this infernal thing I'm going to throw it out the window into mrs. Hudson's bins."

"You could at least let me put my things down, bloody hell Sherlock, this is not the end of the world."

 

'It is!' Sherlock called out frustrated. Why was John being so dreadfully obtuse again? 

'How can you expect me to take any cases and that thing –' he gestured widly to the laptop '–  keeps cluttering up my email with these women?'

To emphasise his point, the phone buzzed on the table. Twice. 

Sherlock looked at it as if Anderson's face was projected on it before turning back to John with an expression that reminded him far too much of a toddler trying not to say 'I told you so'.

 

John shoved the laptop back at him.  "Here, take it or I won't help."

He let Sherlock take the laptop back and moved to set everything down on the table.  He had stopped to pick the takeaway up on his way home so they wouldn't have to wait longer than necessary.  He also didn't think having some poor delivery boy witness Sherlock on full meltdown would be ideal either and he was glad he had the presence of mind to tell mrs. Hudson to go to her sisters for a few days.  He made his way to the table and set everything down, grabbing what they needed to eat in the room on the sofa and telling Sherlock to get the laptop ready and find the FAQ page of the site.

 

Sherlock took the laptop back with a scowl and fell down with it on the sofa.

While John was busy in the kitchen, he opened it again - 5 new emails - and kept trying to press the delete button.

No luck.

Right. FAQ. That was actually a bit clever. 

Sherlock searched but found nothing that resembled his problem. 'Nothing John! There is nothing!'

 

John shook his head as he took a seat next to Sherlock handing him the bag of food and the plates.

"Budge over and let me have a look," he said nudging his knee.  He never quite understood why Sherlock always felt the need to sit in the middle of the couch and leaving John with barely a spot to sit.  Sherlock scooted over and began dishing the food out as John sat and turned the laptop towards him and started clicking through several different pages.  He was actually impressed by the realness of the fake site and it took him a few moments to locate what he thought could be useful - a help desk number.

 

Sherlock snorted.

'A helpdesk, John?' he asked disbelieving as he looked on to see what John was doing, plates in hand.

'They'll keep you on hold for hours, charging ridiculous amounts of money for mediocre help by someone who doesn't even want be there to answer the phone! Just fix that delete button so I can undo whatever this is.'

 

It was John's turn to laugh, "That's the only way it's getting fixed.  I don't know why you think I have the technical knowledge to fix this." he snapped back at Sherlock. "Wait, we could call, um what's his name down at the Yard that works in the computer division, oh um... Richardson.  He owes us a favour.  I'm sure we could get him to fix this and then we'd be square."

John took his plate of food and began shovelling some food in his mouth to keep from laughing at the horrified expression on Sherlock's face.

 

'I'm not calling him!'

Sherlock pulled out John's phone from John's pocket, earning him a protesting sound and a grumpy look. But Sherlock paid him no heed. 

'I might need that favour, eventually' Sherlock muttered as he typed in the number on the site. 

Even though that might be true, Lestrade knowing about this was bad enough. If the news would spread about him calling an IT specialist to fix this, the jokes on his expense would become unbearable! 

Sherlock pressed the 'call' button and put on speaker for John to hear. 

 

The line rang four times before it was answered, and much to Sherlock's surprise it was answered by an actual person and not a machine.

"Hello this is the Cupid’s Arrow help desk where your satisfaction is our number one priority, how may we assist you this evening?" came the young, perky voice over the speakerphone.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to no doubt say something scathing, but John elbowed him in the side and glared at him and whispered "Be nice.  You want them to help you not make it worse." 

 

Sherlock shot a glare at John, but gritted his teeth and did what he said anyway.

'Yes, good evening,' he drawled out, overly polite. 'I am experiencing a bit of trouble with your website.'

'I'm sorry to hear that sir. Have you checked our frequently asked questions?'

Who did she take him for, an idiot?! A pointed look from John made him swallow his insults. 

'Yes, I did and there was nothing there that could help me.'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows at John. 

_Happy now?_

"I'm sorry to hear that sir.  If you'd be so kind to explain the situation I would be glad to help you resolve any issue you may be having with our site.  I just need a few basic pieces of information from you first to confirm your account and then we can get started."

"Well that's the crux of my problem this isn't ...."

John jabbed him in the side hard now.  He said in a whisper, "Just let them ask the questions they need to."

"Oww" Sherlock grumbled.  "I'm sorry, do go on."

"That's quite fine sir, may I have our username please?"

 

He couldn't believe this. This had to be a dream because he could not be sitting here, talking to someone from a helpdesk about having a dating site profile without having made one. With John looking on expectedly. 

The bloody twat!

John was close to laughing out loud - his mouth was tightly pressed together in attempt of a scolding frown but his eyes gave him away. They were practically shining with mirth. 

Sherlock ignored the fluttering of his stomach and put his scowl in place, hoping that the woman on the other end would get the gist of it.

'Deerstalker0601,' he gritted out. 

Something akin to a snort escaped John and Sherlock returned the poke that he had given him a moment earlier. 

'There you are, sir,' the chipper voice on the end declared. 'Oh joined today I see! Welco -'

'I didn't join!' Sherlock blurted out before either her or John could stop him. 'That is the problem. The profile was just...  there and I want it gone. It appears however that your delete button is not functioning.'

 

John grimaced as Sherlock jabbed him in his side.  "Oi!"

Sherlock just glared at him and turned his attention back to the phone as the girl's voice began explaining the situation.

"Well sir, I am truly sorry to hear that.  Are you sure you wouldn't like to take advantage of the wonderful gift someone seems to have given you?  It seems like they've paid the member dues for a full year, so our site would be yours to use for free."

"I don't care if they've paid for the rest of my life..."

"You know, Sherlock, the young lady does have a point."

"Yes sir, I agree with your friend there.  Whoever did this for you have given you a very generous gift, you should take full advantage of it.  Oh dear, I see why you cannot delete this profile.  This is a gold member's gift subscription, the person who ordered this for you would be the only one with the authority to delete the profile."

 

Oh he would throttle John once he got off the phone! He was having way too much fun over this.

'I don't want a Gold Membership profile. I want it gone. My email is my source for  work and I can't have be cluttered with these... invites and messages. Who did this?!'

'I'm sorry sir, that is something we cannot see. They don't have to give their own information to do this. Just their bank account.' She almost sounded apologetic.

Almost. 

Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 'Is there a way I can block these notifications so they won't bother me?'

'No sir, I'm afraid not. You see, that would kind of kill the point of this site. We help organise meetings that wouldn't happen on their own. What if you miss the woman of your dreams by ignoring your notifications?'

That. Was. It.

'I'm not looking for the woman of my dreams!' he burst out, shooting up from the sofa. The laptop would have toppled to the floor if not for John's reflexes. 'I'm not even interested in women so obviously whoever did this doesn't know me well enough to be responsible for my profile anyway. Now, delete it!'

 

It was true that John managed to capture the laptop before it meet with its untimely demise, but then he almost dropped it at Sherlock's outburst.  Stunned at the admission, he looked up to where Sherlock was now frantically pacing.  He was going to say something when the voice over the phone broke the silence.

"I see sir, I do apologise for that.  Actually, I do see a that a mistake was made when one of our technicians was inputting your information, they accidentally added your profile to the wrong site .  I can correct that and move your profile to our men's dating site, better-than-eros.com and extend your membership for an extra year free of charge due to our error.  This should be a satisfactory resolution, I think."

 

'No, have you been listening at all? I do not want a profile. On any dating site. Ever! Got it? Now fix this!'

Sherlock ended the call, pressing down harder on the red horn picture than necessary. If it had been his own phone, he would have smashed it against the wall by now. 

John's phone.

John. Was right there when he... when she... 

Sherlock placed the phone on the kitchen table, next to his own - not buzzing now strangely enough. Perhaps they had fixed it.

 

~~~

Mycroft smiled at Anthea when she put down the phone. That woman's acting skills were amazing - not even he recognised her tone of voice at first when he was listening in. 

'Well done, dear. Now, let us indeed fix this shall we?'

 

John sat quietly and watch Sherlock gently place his phone on the kitchen table, it was odd that it hadn't ended up smashed against the wall given the situation and Sherlock's anger at current moment, but it did seem to be dissipating fast, most likely due to the fact that his own phone had stopped incessantly buzzing.

It seemed John may had jinxed the situation with that thought because at that precise moment a single notification came through on the laptop and Sherlock's phone vibrated once.  

As Sherlock was groaning and picking his phone up, John's eyes fell to the laptop screen and went wide with shock as he saw the new profile that had just been sent to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock nearly let his phone fall from his hands when he saw the picture and the username. 

And he knew. 

Mycroft. Bloody, insufferable, meddling Mycroft was responsible for this mess. And now he had - he had... oh this was more than a bit not good! 

Sherlock didn't dare turn around. He didn't even try to guess what the man on the sofa, laptop in his hands, had to be looking like right now. Or even thinking. 

He couldn't move. If he had, he would have fled to his room by now. He would have screamed and ranted as he tore Mycroft's bugs from their hiding places. He would have done that, if the picture on his phone had been of any other man in London. 

Sherlock looked again at his phone and felt his insides clench at the smiling John - picture had been taken a couple of weeks back by a rather flirty reporter Sherlock remembered - greeting him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he clicked the 'view profile' option. 

 

John wasn't really surprised.  He figured there would be some sort of twist, that was the danger of enlisting Mycroft for help, but he never expected THIS.  Oh shit, now what?  Just ignore it?  Tell Sherlock that this whole thing was an April fool's joke that had just gone too far and that he was sorry.  He would be pissed if this caused a rift between them.  He didn't want to endanger the relationship they had with his own true feelings coming to light and as he looked at his profile on the laptop screen, he knew that's exactly what would happen if Sherlock read it.

He sat there trying to figure out what to do or say and came up absolutely blank.  He didn't know what to do so he just sat there waiting for Sherlock to say something.  Anything that would let him know how to respond properly.

 

The profile was... interesting. Very detailed and specific to say the least - Sherlock had to credit Mycroft for that. 

_Boswell0707._

About as unimaginative as his own username but it got the point across. Date of birth, a couple of pictures - John's best in Sherlock's opinion - full name, it was all there - except the Hamish and Sherlock smiled at that. He hated Hamish. 

_Sexuality: bisexual_

Now that was... Sherlock blinked a couple of times as he recalled every single time John had practically screamed to the world he was 'not gay'. And yet there had been no mistaking John's intent during that first night at Angelo's. Sherlock had found it annoying at the time. Now, though... 

Bisexual. Technically, not gay. Tends to stick to women to appear 'normal'. John often pretends. 

He kept reading.

_Retired army doctor (captain), currently working as a GP in central London... craves excitement in life... can enjoy a quiet night in, in front of the telly with a glass of wine and some homemade dinner... will respect your career choices and take an interest... likes the violin but I don't play it myself... not repulsed by scientific experiments as long as it doesn't contaminate the food... used to short periods of sleep..._

Sherlock swallowed, still with his back to John - he hadn't moved, he hadn't said anything, what was he doing, thinking, was he going to leave?! - and he took a deep breath.

_Do you want to send a message?_

_Yes._

_I take my coffee black, two sugars._

_Send?_

_Sent_

 

The moments of silence that past seemed to take forever and the longer they stretched the harder it was for John to breathe.   He kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock's back.  He could tell the younger man was reading the profile. He guessed he deserved it if things took a turn for the sour now and Sherlock asked him to move out.

He tried to keep his breathing normal as he noticed Sherlock tapping out a message. 

This was it he thought as he heard his phone vibrate on the table inches from where Sherlock stood. 

John quietly rose from the couch and walked to the table almost afraid to look at the message. If Sherlock couldn't or worse yet, wouldn't voice whatever he had to say it must be bad. 

John held his breath as he looked at the screen. 

_I take my coffee black, two sugars._

What he saw, well he blinked several times he couldn't believe it.   Had they really wasted all this time because they were too foolish to just be honest with each other?

He cleared his throat.   "I know."

 

Sherlock listened closely as John stood up from the sofa and moved closer to him. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on his mobile screen as John picked up his own mobile and read the message. 

Time froze for a second. John said nothing. He did nothing and  _oh God, I have ruined everything and now John would leave and I will kill Mycroft for doing this and -_

John clearing his throat interrupted Sherlock's panicking. 

'I know.'

'Good,' Sherlock blurted out, voice slightly higher than he would have liked. He winced and started typing out another message.

_You can order it for me when we go out. If you want._

 

John smiled when Sherlock answered and his voice was higher than he knew Sherlock intended. 

He was getting ready to say something when his phone buzzed again. It was his turn to leave out an unintended gasp as he read the message. 

He tapped his response out and pressed send this time.  He wasn't sure he could actually get these words out. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

_I can if you want, but the only time I prefer coffee is after a rousing night in bed. With you. If you're interested?_

Sherlock could actually feel his heart skip a beat and the heat spread from his groin when he read the words John -  _John! -_ had sent him. John was interested. In him. John wanted to...  _oh God!_  

With trembling hands he placed the phone down on the table and turned so he could look at his flatmate's face. His skin was itching with want as he allowed the feelings he had tried to keep hidden for weeks, months, to break through his defences. 

'John...' he muttered, shaking his head slightly. He couldn't believe this. Not that Mycroft would have orchestrated this, not that John would want  _him_ of all people. Somewhere his mind was still convinced he would wake up and John would go back to dating women and leaving him alone in the evenings and...

But then John, marvellous, wonderful and amazing John, reached out and let his fingers trace the hand that still hovered over his phone. Not quite holding but his touch was grounding nevertheless and Sherlock sighed in relief at the sudden quiet of his mind. 

John. 

~~

Mycroft leaned back in his chair, a smile on his lips and he could feel Anthea watching over his shoulder with him. 

'I do believe they require some privacy, my dear.'

'I agree, sir.'

Mycroft could hear the smile in her voice and with a satisfied nod he turned off the surveillance of 221B. 

_About time, little brother..._

 

John wasn't about to waste this perfect moment, he let his hand skim over the top of Sherlock's then let his fingers brush up the sleeve of his shirt to his shoulder.  Their gazes meeting and locking as John's hand slid to the back of Sherlock's neck, his fingers stopping to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.  Sherlock's eyes drifting shut, his breath hitching as John's fingers curled around his neck pulling Sherlock to his lips.

His other hand was suddenly against Sherlock's cheek, his thumb brushing i ever so lightly as he angled his head just so to bring their lips almost together.  He exhaled ever so softly, "you've absolutely no idea."

And before Sherlock could even formulate an answer, John was teasing his lips with little licks, making an answer impossible now.

 

Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, overcome with the sensation of John's breath on his face. John was holding him, his hand on his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone and his fingers had settled comfortable between the fine curls of his neck. Holding him. As if Sherlock would move away now with John so...

Wait. 

John. 

Close. So close and willing. And he was not kissing him!

Sherlock's eyes shot open, he saw the heated look in John's eyes reflected in his own and he moved. His veins were thrumming in his body when his hands moved up, cradling John's head with one and holding his waist with the other. Their lips crashed together and  _oh God_ this felt so much better than he ever dared to dream.

John's lips were warm against his own, returning the kiss with the passion and determination. 

John let out a sudden huff of breath when his back collided with the kitchen counter - when had they moved? - but he pulled Sherlock back to him before he could apologise. Their mouths opened against each other and their tongues met for the first time. Sherlock groaned and tightened his hold. Both to feel John close to him and to prevent himself from giving in to his suddenly weak knees. 

 

As their tongues collided, John moaned into Sherlock's mouth.  God, how many month's had he spent imagining this exact scenario and his mind started to wander and he had to mentally scold himself, tell himself to focus on the here and now because it was actually happening.  

He brought his hands to Sherlock's cheeks, pulling him closer, which he didn't quite think was possible, but it was.  He pulled back just a bit, causing Sherlock to whimper, "John, please."  He rubbed his thumb over Sherlock's bottom lips, surprised when the detective pulled it in between his lips and sucked ever so gently, letting his tongue do the teasing now."

John hissed, "Sherlock, bedroom please, or so help me, I'll bend you over the kitchen table and have you right here."

 

'I could be amenable to that,' Sherlock breathed against John's lips before claiming them again. He pulled John away from the counter anyway. 

Sherlock didn't want their first time - oh dear God that thought alone sent shivers down his spine - to be a rushed encounter in the kitchen. 

Bed. They'd need the bed. 

Their lips moved against each other with a hint of teeth grazing against them in teasing leaving Sherlock absolutely breathless. He had waited for this. For so long and John was simply right here in his arms.

John's back collided with Sherlock's closed bedroom door and Sherlock growled in frustration. 

'Open it,' he muttered against John's lips before moving his own to John's neck, breathing him in and tasting him. 

 

As John managed to angle his arm to be able to get a hold of the door knob and twist, Sherlock chose that precise moment to lean into him causing the door to swing open with such force that it hit the wall with a loud thud.  They were lucky they didn't put a hole in the wall and John was lucky he didn't end up flat on his back on the hardwood floor.

Somehow, John managed to get him and Sherlock turned, so he could shove the taller man onto the bed allowing him to crawl on top of him.  He straddled the younger man and just sat back taking in the sight of Sherlock - curls messy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and slick with saliva. 

He laced their fingers together as he leaned forward and began nipping at Sherlock's exposed collar bone.  "Do you have any idea all the things I want to do to you?" he asked before biting gently on Sherlock's bottom lip and tugging it between his own.

 

Sherlock gasped for breath when John straddled his hips, pinning his down against the bed.

John's touch was torture. The sweetest torture and Sherlock never wanted him to stop. He had waited for this for so long, it was hard to believe this wasn't another dream.

John's gravelly voice sent shivers down his spine and he managed to push his hips up against the man on top of him, making him feel just how badly Sherlock wanted John to go ahead and do those things to him.

'I know the feeling,' he admitted coyly whilst letting his hands slide over John's back and shoulders.

 

'Mmmmm,' John hummed against Sherlock's lips as he drug his mails lightly down Sherlock's arms which he had pinned above his heads until he came to the buttons.  "Do you have any idea how much?"

He popped a button,

"I"  and another,

"hate" another

"these" another,

"god forsaken"  second to last..

"buttons!" Last button.

He finished by spreading that infernal purple shirt apart, resisting the urge to just rip it off Sherlock's body, but he wouldn't do that, this was his favourite shirt after all.  He dipped his head lower, dragging his tongue along the pale skin of Sherlock's chest, laving and swirling once he reached his right nipple, bringing it to a hardened peak before moving to the left.

 

Sherlock let out a breathless laugh when John worked to open his shirt. He knew how snugly his shirt fit around his chest, he'd seen men and women looking over the years but it had never mattered. Now though... he was going to savour the look on John's face as he undid the buttons of his shirt for the rest of his life. 

Sherlock wanted to retort, some clever sentence to make John breathe out a laugh like he had, but John was quicker, leaning his head down and letting his tongue render Sherlock's mind completely silent. 

He gasped and his hand moved to John's neck, holding him. His back arched into the sensation. 'John!' he moaned. 

Sherlock's other hand had grasped John's jumper, alternating between tugging at it to get it off and holding it to pull the man on top of him closer. His need was overwhelming and there wasn't enough of John that he could feel, could see, could touch and he wanted it all, now!

 

John allowed Sherlock to get a hold of his jumper and pull it off his body, he then grabbed his shirt and removed it, throwing it to the floor.  He lowered his body so their skin was touching now and slid back up Sherlock's chest to capture his lips with a short kiss.

"Patience," he mumbled, "You don't want it to be over all at once do you?" He asked, distracting him from the fact that he was now working on his belt and trouser buttons.  "I've want you for far too long so we are by no means rushing this."  He finished as he licked a stripe up his neck to his earlobe.  "We are going to earn that cup of coffee tomorrow morning." he whispered in Sherlock's ear before biting the lobe and grinding his hips downward bringing their clothed erections together for the first time.

 

Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's naked torso, keeping him close, the moment John leaned down to kiss him lips. He could feel the muscles moving underneath the skin - oh how many nights had he imagined being allowed to touch. But John wasn't done.

Sherlock whimpered, although he would deny it ever happened later, when John's teeth grazed the lobe of his ear and their erections ground together. 

Oh God, the mere feel of it send shivers down Sherlock's spine. So good. And there weren't even naked yet. Naked. In bed. With John Watson. Who seemed determined on making this last. 

'John,' he gasped out as their hips started moving against each other. 'I promise you, I have every... oh please... intention of doing this again, but, please... don't stall...ah! I've waited too long already...'

Sherlock turned his head to the side, catching John's eyes. He moved his head to capture John's lips, slowly this time and their movements settled down somewhat. 

'Please...'

 

"Oh believe me, I've no intention of stalling." he murmured as he snaked his hand between Sherlock's pants and heated skin.  He wrapped his hand around the very tip of Sherlock's cock and rubbed his thumb over the slit smearing precome over the head, twisting his wrist and adding slight pressure, and pulling forth a long, guttural moan from the young detective.

"Oh god yes, let me hear you.  Don't stop."  John groaned as he began slowly stroking from root to tip.  He loved how responsive Sherlock was to these little touches now, he couldn't wait to see what would happen when.... oh, now there was a thought he'd no longer have to imagine.

He sucked at the pulse point behind Sherlock's ear, licked the shell of his ear, "Please tell me you have lube, because if I have to run upstairs I think I may implode."

 

Sherlock nearly knocked over the light of his nightstand trying to open the top drawer. 

It was hard to focus on his movements while John - oh fuck!

He gasped, throwing his head back when John's thumb slid over the head of his cock again and he nearly pulled the drawer completely out of the nightstand. 

It had to be in there somewhere but he couldn't find. Not now. Not with John's mouth sucking on his neck and his hand wrapped around him. 

'John,' he whined, desperate for more. 

 

John couldn't help the chuckle that escaped as Sherlock all but ripped the drawer out of the nightstand.  

"Here, let me help.." he said removing his hand from Sherlock's cock and sitting back on his knees to reach for the lube.

"John..." Sherlock whined as John reached for the lube with one hand and with his other, placed two fingers to Sherlock's lips to trace them before slowly letting them slip between those gorgeous, puffy lips.  

It was John's turn to whimper as Sherlock began gently sucking on them, the sight almost too much and now John really needed to know what those lips would look like around his cock, but he'd save that for another day because he was certain he'd come like a schoolboy if he let Sherlock put his lips anywhere near his groin right now. 

 

Sherlock saw the widening of John's pupils when he sucked his fingers in his mouth and he twirled his tongue around them for good measure. 

One day, perhaps today if John would let him, he'd do the same to John's cock. But right now, they both had other things on their minds. 

Sherlock rolled his hips to remind John what he wanted to do in the first place. 

It felt natural. To settle back and let John lead - for now - him through this. John seemed sure of what he wanted whereas Sherlock's mind was shooting from one possibility to the other. 

'John, please,' Sherlock breathed around John's fingers and hands found John's trouser button. Off. He needed it all off. 

He could feel John's erection pressing against the fabric and he let his hand slide down to cup him, earning a hiss in pleasure. 

 

"Oh fuck!" John shuddered as Sherlock's hand palmed him, "clothes off now!" he barely choked out as he dropped the bottle of lube and fumbled with his jeans and pants long enough to get them off as Sherlock did the same.  By the time they'd finish dispensing with their clothing, they were lying on their sides, languidly kissing, enjoying the taking in each sensation as it built again to unquestionable need.  John found the lube again and coaxed Sherlock to his back, peppering his neck with kisses as he poured some of the cold, viscous liquid onto his fingers, a voice in the back of his mind telling him to go slow but not to slow so they could enjoy this while lasting more than ten seconds.

As he found Sherlock's lips, he slid his hand down Sherlock's length, past his balls and that small sensitive patch there and left his fingers slide slowly between those perfect arse cheeks.  Sherlock bucked up to meet his fingers. Desperate for more contact.

"Don't worry," John murmured against his lips, "I've got you." 

 

Sherlock spent as long as he could, taking in every detail of John's naked body. The scar on his shoulder, the scar that brought John back to London, to him. Those steady warm hands that had saved his life so many times already, putting him together and were now busy pulling him apart again. And Sherlock trusted him to pull him back together again. 

His toned chest and softer belly, still baring the traces of his time in the military. 

His cock, fully erect, glistening at the head. Because of him. 

Sherlock moaned into John's kisses and spread his legs further to give John more access. 'Fuck, John -' Sherlock gasped when John pressed his fingers harder against him. 'I just - I need - '

 

"This?" he asked as he ever so slowly pushed his finger in, letting the muscle relax and take his finger in.  They both groaned at the sensation.

 "Oh fuck Sherlock...” was all John could managed to say at this point as he allowed him a moment to adjust before pulling his finger back and pushing in again.  He had no idea how he was going to last more than a minute once Sherlock was ready for him, not after waiting all this time.

He kept his movements precise and swift, quickly working up to a second finger while managing to go deeper.  "God Sherlock," he exhaled as the detective arched his back and begged for more, "I can't wait to be inside you.

 

'Ye - oh John!'

Sherlock threw his head back, clawing at the sheet to simply hold on. The sensations were nearly too much to focus on. He wanted to remember it all, file it away for later. But it was impossible. Too much. 

And not enough at the same time. 

His heart was pounding loudly and there wasn't a breath that escaped him without a moan. And the way John looked at him... it made him feel alive, with every nerve ending on fire. 

John continued to prepare him, scissoring his fingers and pushing them deeper until he could go no further. And suddenly, Sherlock had enough. 

When John pulled his fingers out slightly, Sherlock re-found the strength in his limbs and turned them over. On his back now, with Sherlock hovering over him, John was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open but Sherlock kissed his question away before he could ask it. 

Sherlock reached for the lube, squirting some in his hand and he slowly took John's cock in it to slick him up. 

 

Jesus, John nearly passed out as Sherlock wrapped his long fingers his throbbing cock to slick him up.  "Sher..."  he couldn't even manage his name and he was grateful at this point that Sherlock had taken control of the situation by flipping them, although he wasn't quite sure how he was going to survive this. It was torture as Sherlock slicked him so agonisingly slow and then everything went quiet as Sherlock hovered over him, the tip of his cock just resting at Sherlock's entrance.  All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.  The only thing he could feel was the heat of Sherlock all around him, it talk all he had not to just push up into him.

He reached out and grasped Sherlock's waist, just holding him there.  "Sherlock, PLEASE!"

 

Sherlock grinned down at John. Any other time he might have considered teasing John further. But he was desperate himself now. He needed to feel John inside of him. 

He place his hands on John's chest and kept looking at him as he slowly sank down on John's cock. His thighs trembled with the strain and the pleasure of John filling him up. Oh God, this felt so much better than Sherlock had ever dared to dream. 

Every nerve was of fire and all his attention was focused on the man underneath him. 

He exhaled shakily when he bottomed out and he leaned forward in John's arms. Sherlock had closed his eyes now, trying to get used to feeling of John in him. 

_Breathe. Make this last. You waited for this long enough._

'John...'

 

The sight of Sherlock on top of him like this was something John had been dreaming of forever it seemed.  When their bodies were finally flush against each other, John reached up, lacing his fingers into Sherlock's hair and pulling him forward for their lips to meet. 

"Wanted..." John breathed out between kisses, "this..." Quick dip of his tongue in Sherlock's mouth, "forever." 

He rolled his hips upwards just once, begging Sherlock for more. 

"Please Sherlock, please. Give it to me."

 

Sherlock sat back up and grabbed hold of John's shoulders so he could use his arms in his movements. Slowly, so very slowly, he started rocking his hips. 

_Oh sweet God, yes!_

Sherlock's head fell back in pleasure, his mouth fallen open in a silent moan as he kept rocking his hips. Carefully, he began moving up and down, taking John in as deep as he possible could on every down stroke. 

  

John let Sherlock take the lead and set their pace, he wanted to make this as enjoyable for their first time and the view from this angle was not bad at all.  In fact it was breath taking to see Sherlock like this, lost and oblivious to everything around him but the way that he was feeling because of John.  With every moan, it was only reinforced, the way he felt and John couldn't help now but thrust up to meet his every down stroke, helping to drive himself in deeper.

"Amazing, right there."  was all he could manage between his own moans.  He could feel the heat pooling in his lower abdomen and he knew Sherlock was close as well.  He could feel him progressively tightening and his movements were becoming less fluid and more erratic, not to mention, the noises.  Oh those sinful sounds from that beautiful mouth were getting louder with each thrust and he really didn't care if all of Baker Street heard them.  In fact, he wanted all of Baker Street to hear them.

"Oh fuck Sherlock, yes!  Don't stop."

 

The sound of skin slapping of skin and their moans fuelled Sherlock on. His thighs were burning but he didn't care. He wanted John, harder, deeper, in any way he possibly could. 

One thrust from John made him fall forward and he caught himself by placing his hands on either side of John's head. 

And he should have done that sooner. 

John bent his knees and started thrusting into him in earnest. Sherlock could do nothing more than to try to meet them as his balls tightened. 

Not long. Sherlock hurtling towards his orgasm, fast and he opened his eyes. 'John - I'm - oh fuck yes right there. Please!'

 

It was hard to imagine feeling any better than he did at that particular moment but when Sherlock fell forward and the angle changed, John knew he'd only be good for another handful of thrusts. 

When Sherlock begged him for more, his grip on Sherlock's hips tightened to the point where he knew there would be bruises but he was certain Sherlock wouldn't care.  In fact the young detective would more than likely relish them, and john couldn't deny what Sherlock had asked. 

He began thrusting upward as hard and deep as he could and on the fourth thrust, they both cried out as he brushed Sherlock's prostate and Sherlock cried out, his movements stilling as his muscles tightened and his body shook as he came hard. His semen painting John's stomach in thick streaks as John fucked him through his orgasm until his own vision blurred around the edges and he came. 

 

Every single muscle in Sherlock's body tensed and released. His legs quivered and for one moment, one blissful moment, his mind was silent but for the pleasure surging through his body. 

His arms gave out when John moved his hips up hard to chase his own orgasm and he barely managed to keep his weight off John by supporting on his elbows . 

Sherlock struggled to keep his eyes open. He wanted to watch John's face as he climaxed inside of him -  _oh God, John is coming inside of me, I can feel him! -_ and something lazy stirred in his groin. 

John looked gorgeous like this. His cheeks were flushed, mouth open - his lips were still swollen and slightly glossy from their kissing earlier. The sandy-grey hair was a complete mess and when John's body relaxed, Sherlock couldn't keep his mouth of his face. He looked thoroughly shagged and Sherlock's heart fluttered in his chest at the sight. 

He had done that.

John had sex with him.

Sherlock pressed his face in the crook of John's neck, trying to hide the stupid grin that spread on his face and breathed in deeply. 

 

It took several long moments for John's breathing and senses to return to normal, and when they did he wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

"I can feel you grinning," he chuckled, as he ran his hand through Sherlock's mess of curls and tugged his face upwards. "I want to see," he confessed as their eyes met. 

There was no way to adequately describe what he saw there, but he knew. 

"I love you and I'm not sorry for the prank I pulled even when you do get me back."

He lifted his head and kissed those perfect lips languidly.  "Not sorry one bit if this is what it got me."

 

Sherlock hummed happily against John's lips, letting the meaning of those three little words settle in - wait,  _WHAT!_

Sherlock pulled away from the kiss and peered down to John's face. 

'You knew?!' he gasped, feeling suddenly betrayed. Sure, he agreed with John's statement about being glad this happened but John knew about what the hell had happened to his phone and email? And he hadn't told...

_Wait..._

'What's the date, John?'

 

"Oh for God's sake, of course you wouldn't realise it's April Fool's Day, but really Sherlock, it doesn't matter.  What matters is the fact that we've finally admitted our feelings for each other.  Seriously, how is it you do not know it's April Fool's day?  I mean your brother jumped on this as soon as I contacted him, so I figured you guys have been trying to best each other for years now."

 

Sherlock pressed his face against John's neck, hiding his flushed face and used the skin of John's shoulder to muffle his words. 

'What?'

'I hate him,' Sherlock grumbled. 'I never win so I deleted it. Colluding with you was a low blow.'

John started laughing - that deep belly laugh that Sherlock loved so much and he bit his bottom lip to prevent a giggle to escape him. Thanks to Mycroft's and John's little alliance, he now had what he had wanted for so long. 

He wouldn't even be surprised if Mycroft had played John from the beginning to get them here.

'I hate you both,' he muttered and he let his lips graze John's warmed skin. 'I will get you for this.'

'Oh yeah?' John asked and Sherlock could hear the grin in his voice. 

Without warning Sherlock let his hand slide down John's body inching closer to his sticky groin but he stayed clear of John's cock. 

'Oh yes...'

 

 


End file.
